Hypocrites

"Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies."

Although such statements coming from a poet who devoted his life to deep and profound religious practices, to the love of God (not for), might seem slightly odd, it is not in any case unsettling. It is true that love between two people based merely on physical beauty has the life expectancy similar to that of the memory of a goldfish (3 seconds), for beauty can never feed your soul to the point where you are ravished till you breathe your last breath. Although beauty too, can be body and time consuming, can touch you at the core of your being, it is a fleeting illusion, which, tying into what Oscar Wilde once said "Illusion is the first of all pleasures", is never the last pleasure.

However. I believe that physical beauty has always been, and will forever be, one of the cornerstones of human society. Every single century, era, ethnic group and culture have had their perfect embodiment of physical beauty, an idol which everyone strove to compare themselves with. Whether it was eau de natural style of certain ethnic tribes (I still wish someone would have invented bras for those poor women - you see?) or perfectly pearly pale complexions and waists the size of my calf (no, I do not happen to have gigantic calfs. Yet, that is), generations have always had a physical ideal which they craved, wanted, were aggravated by, turned on by, an ideal which they were and weren't.

Whenever I look at baroque paintings, with the perfectly plump women in all their glutinous glory, showing off their layers and layers of perfectly seasoned fat, all I can do is envy them. Yet, one cannot ever win a fruitless battle and that against beauty ideals can bear nothing sweet. Although inherently, when I am contemplating this issue in my mind I am thinking of women, men do not escape the watchful eye of beauty standard either. Dear David might have set an impossible task for some men to accomplish, even if he is made of marble. Yet, because men have however unfortunately been stoically in the position of those who choose for centuries, their beauty is less concrete, less materialized. When was the last time you called a man beautiful?

Back in the day, when things were simpler in comparison and all I would have needed was a guitar, bandanna and a couple needles, there were too women that somehow managed to step out of the ever changing circle of beauty, form the boundaries, push them somewhere else. If Twiggy were to appear on a baroque painting with her bony legs and ridiculous haircut, I would probably think it is the piece by someone with a great sense of humor. However, for her time, she was something different that people started to look up to. It is apparent that the ideals of beauty are never constant and always change. So why do people care so much?

Anyone who tries to deny the fact that they do not care about the way the look, that they do not care about the way other people look like is a complete hypocrite. People in today's society should be extremely grateful because now more than ever have the boundaries of the circle of beauty been distorted, pushed, stretched and challenged. Because of the extensiveness of global human communication, our individual ideals have mixed to create somewhat of a melting pot. Although people even today tend to make generalizations (Yes, I would fuck Angelina Jolie if I had the chance, she is drop dead gorgeous), I do not think beauty can be generalized. Ever, that is. And to stick to not being a hypocrite, I do not think everyone is physically beautifully. Thankfully, those people that are not touched by the grace of my judgment still have a realistic opportunity to be touched (pun intended) by someone else. In today's world, any physical form can be beautiful. Anyone can be, but not everyone is.

"Everything is beautiful. Pop is everything."

Andy Warhol